So Wednesday night found Kelly and I at Russell Brand and Katy Perry's summer getaway cottage overlooking beautiful Gatlinburg (I know, I was surprised too). We knocked on the door and Russell Brand himself swung the door open.
"Scott! Kelly!" He cheered. "Welcome to our humble summertime abode! Katy's not here right now, she'll join us after the tour. But I'm here! We can still have a bit of fun, yeah? You're here, life can still be a party!"
Kelly and I laughed and he showed us to our room. "Why don't you two relax, I'll go downstairs and get the cookin' on."
Russell disappeared and Kelly went to take a shower. I laid down for a quick nap . . . and when I woke back up, Kelly was sitting at the foot of the bed, holding a chubby little baby. Russell Brand was standing behind her. They were both grinning excitedly.
"What's this?" I asked.
"It's your baby!" Russell Brand answered.
"It can't be." I shook my head.
"Of course it can!" Russell Brand yelled back at me, almost sounding offended. "Don't you want it?"
"Of course I do," I said. "But . . . where did it come from?"
"Scott!" Russell rolled his eyes. "You ask too many questions!"
It was then I realized why Kelly had insisted we visited Russell and Katy. She knew Russell had some dark, back alley connections. She knew he could find us a baby. The baby was cooing now, playing with Kelly's hair. He was adorable, with his shock of orange hair and . . . vaguely . . . purple skin.
"Is his skin purple?" I asked.
"Again with the questions!" Russell threw his hands in the air. "Scott! You're a father now! You can't go spending your time pointing out how different and strange and weird your son is! You say 'purple' as if it's pejorative! You're a family now! You have a baby! What do you possibly have to complain about?!"
And then I woke up.
I was sad. Despite the baby being purple, I really thought I could have given it a good home.